


Perfect Fit

by Duck_Life



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Clothes Aren't Gendered, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14832462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Shawn and Maya bond while shopping at Demolition. Set during "Girl Meets Hurricane."





	Perfect Fit

After Maya’s tried on three outfits (with Shawn gushing over each of them and telling her how nice she looks), Cory and Riley skip out to get gelato and make a run to the post office to buy stamps. Shawn sits in the Dad Chair for two more outfits, and then he starts browsing for himself as well, with occasional help from Maya. 

“What about this?” Maya says, holding up a tacky blue-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt. 

It looks, Shawn has to admit, a lot like something he would’ve worn when he was her age. It also looks— “Too dad,” he says, scrunching up his face. “If I bought that I’d have to get some sandals and socks to go with it.” 

Maya shrugs and hangs the shirt back up on the rack, leaving Shawn feeling like he’s done something wrong. He was right, though, the shirt’s a total dad shirt. 

That’s probably, he realizes belatedly, why she picked it out. 

“This one?” Shawn asks, pulling out a t-shirt emblazoned with WORLD SARCASM SOCIETY— LIKE WE NEED YOUR SUPPORT. 

Maya rolls her eyes. “No.” They move on to the next rack of clothing. As Shawn checks the size on a pair of black jeans, he glances up at her and feels pleased to see she’s smiling slightly. 

They’re not going to be Cory and Riley. (He already tried to recreate Cory-and-Topanga once, and he’s learning from his mistakes.) 

No, they can’t be Cory-and-Riley. They can be Shawn and Maya, and maybe, if he’s lucky, Shawn-and-Maya. (Maybe if he’s  _ really _ lucky, Shawn-and-Maya-and-Katy, but he’s been pushing those kinds of thoughts to the back of his head and stubbornly ignoring them.) 

The sound of Maya sighing distracts Shawn from trying not to think. He looks up to find her gazing longingly at a maxi skirt. “I can never wear these,” she huffs. “Riley looks so cute in long dresses and long skirts. If I tried to pull that off it would drag on the floor.” 

Shawn shrugs. “You don’t need to dress like Riley,” he says. “Dress like Maya. Can you imagine how ridiculous I’d look dressed like  _ my _ best friend?”

Maya snorts, imagining him dressed like Cory. “Okay, you’ve got a point.”

“I did dress up as him one year for Halloween,” Shawn remembers suddenly, flicking through a couple selections on the rack. “Even got a wig. I was dedicated.” 

“Wait, really?” Maya says, grinning wide. “Oh, man, he must’ve been pissed.”

“I like to think he found it flattering.”

“We should totally do that,” Maya says, her eyes lit up with a kind of chaotic glee. “Me and Riles, I mean. And Lucas and Farkle. We could get the entire class in on it, all come to school dressed as Matthews.” 

Shawn’s fighting between discouraging this idea (Cory’s a grown-up now, he reminds himself, and so is he, and grown-ups are supposed to tell kids to respect other grown-ups.) and cackling at the image of twenty-plus teenagers showing up to school in polo shirts and sweater vests. 

Eventually, Maya picks out another armful of clothes to try on and Shawn ducks into the second dressing room not long after. 

“Can I wear paisley with stripes?” Maya wonders aloud, looking at herself in the dressing room mirror. 

“Yeah, think so,” Shawn says from the next dressing room. “Mixing patterns… that’s  _ pretty much _ fine, as long as you don’t overdo it. Like, no more than two.”

“Got it,” Maya says, slipping out of the paisley top and trying on a sunny smock-like shirt. “Okay I like this, but not with the pants. And maybe not by itself. Like, I could do a vest over it and wear it with leggings and shorts.”

She hears Shawn cluck his tongue from the other dressing room. “Too many layers,” he declares. “You don’t need so many layers, kid. You’re a fourteen-year-old, not a child star on the Disney Channel.” 

Maya frowns and steps out from behind the curtain to get his opinion on the pants. “How do you know so much about women’s clothing, anyway?”

It’s like she can hear him tensing up on the other side of the curtain. “Because… okay, promise you’re not gonna laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

Shawn steps out of the dressing room. Wearing the maxi skirt. “Because I look  _ awesome _ in women’s clothing.”

Maya’s immediate instinct is to laugh, but he  _ did _ tell her not to, and also… well, he’s not wrong. He actually looks cool. Shawn Hunter keeps surprising her, maybe because, based on a lot of Cory and Topanga and Riley’s stories, Maya thought he’d be some kind of manly-man, classic rocker loner type.

Shawn in person is a weird, philosophical oddball. He listens to classical music and also Counting Crows and he takes pictures of old abandoned barns whenever he sees them just because he thinks they look cool and he almost always has a Mrs. Fields cookie in his jacket pocket and he, apparently, wears skirts sometimes. And looks cool in them. 

“You look great,” Maya says.

Shawn looks at the pants and top she picked out. “So do you.”

“You gonna buy the skirt?”

He looks down at it, swishes it around his ankles, then shakes his head. “Nah. Not so much my thing anymore.”

She raises an eyebrow. “But it used to be?”

“That’s a story,” Shawn grins. “Ask Cory about it. Actually, don’t.” He laughs, remembering high school and Cory’s newspaper article and Veronica Wasboiski. He remembers going and getting his ear pierced after that escapade, remembers how he liked wearing clothes he wasn’t “supposed” to wear. How he liked when his appearance didn’t mesh perfectly with what everybody else wanted him to be. “Point is, kid, you should dress how you want to dress. Wear what  _ you _ want to wear.”

Maya cocks her head to the side, smirking at him. “I thought this whole little shopping spree was because I was doing that and you didn’t like it.” 

She’s got him there. Sort of. Except it wasn’t necessarily that Shawn had a problem with what she was wearing. Ripped leggings, short-shorts, a dark band tee. It was exactly the sort of thing any troubled teen with a crappy home life would be expected to wear.

The thing Shawn didn’t like was… well, that exactly. It was exactly the sort of thing any troubled teen with a crappy home life would be expected to wear. And it felt like that’s why she was wearing it. 

“You asked me for advice this morning,” he reminds her. “Here’s my advice— wear the clothes you like and want to wear. If you want to wear stuff like what you had on earlier, fine. If that’s what you want. But don’t wear it because that’s what you think Lucas and Farkle and Riley and Cory expect you to wear.”

Maya blinks, weirdly touched by what’s essentially just teen fashion advice. “Okay,” she says finally, and then she looks back down at the outfit she’s wearing. “I like these pants. I want to wear these pants.” 

“Good,” Shawn says, smiling. “Then we should pick out some new shoes to go with them.” 


End file.
